


Prompts for Dragon Age

by Cherries_and_bearbees



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Baby Qunari, Blind Mage, former tamassran inquisitor, no beta we die like spartans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherries_and_bearbees/pseuds/Cherries_and_bearbees
Summary: I will post here all fics I make based on prompts, challenges and whatnot. None of it is beta-ed, so read at your own risk! Some of the pieces may be related, but it'll never be in the right chronological order.





	1. Of blue magic and tunnels

**Author's Note:**

> Presenting a blind Warden of Ferelden!

###  [ **Prompt 1** : Rain for days, caves, contemplative/restless, blue, and sight ](https://www.reddit.com/r/dragonage/comments/ircmby/spoilers_alloctime_to_be_storytellers_the_dragon/)

Head held high, steps unfaltering, never betraying that their eyes didn’t actually see the world around them. Leliana envied their leader. She’d never felt like the Warden looked, not even at the height of her bard career or duties at the Chantry. The mage, fresh faced out of the Circle and their Harrowing, had taken them all by the hand, leading them through the horrors of the Blight that none of them had even been able to conjure even in their worst nightmares with patience and ingenuity in spades.

Blue tendrils of magic sparked with each step the mage took, glittering like fairies would in children’s tales, then softly spreading like large leafs over the walls,over them, trailing the ground until it faded into nothingness. It was enthralling and one of the most beautiful pieces of magic she had ever encountered. Orlais wasn’t without it’s fancy spells and tricks, mages often invited to make noble parties more magical than the previous one. But it seemed to pale next to the ethereal plants that sprouted from the elven mage’s steps. Their magic could be felt by all and even Sten relaxed in it’s touch after weeks of growling whenever it happened.

“How much longer do we have to go through these narrow passages?” asked Zevran. “I’m getting quite sick of not seeing what’s around our dear Qunari’s broad shoulders.”   
The Warden stopped, a hand touching a wall on their left. Silence enveloped the group, even Barkspawn holding it’s breath while the mage muttered a spell and then loudly thumped their staff on the ground. The ‘twack!’ echoed, blue following the sound like little, playful whisps with long tails of glitter behind them until they vanished in the darkness further in.  
A few more seconds of waiting, the rain deafening them all, hiding the usual ‘trill’ that accompanied the magic their leader produced so readily. And then the wisps returned, twirling around their creator’s staff and then disappeared like tiny fireworks.

“We’ll find the exit by nightfall, perhaps sooner if we speed up a bit. I didn’t see anyone at the exit so it seems we haven’t been discovered taking this path.”  
Zevran grumbled but the group heaved a sigh of relief at those words. Caves, after the Deep Roads, certainly wasn’t their favourite place to be and most likely never would be again (except maybe for Oghren). Leliana stepped forwards and took the Warden’s hand with the ease of familiarity. She was rewarded with a quick squeeze and a warm smile. The reassurance that they hadn’t been followed or found was another layer of relief that did good for their morale.

“Let’s get at least close to the exit. I want to breathe fresh air again.” proposed Alistair who tried (unsuccessfully) to sidestep Morrigan who purposefully had put herself right in the middle of the narrow tunnel, purely to annoy the man.  
“Seconded.” added Wynne. “And we need to fill our skins soon. The rain water could also serve for a quick bath.”  
“Yes, please! And maybe attempt to hunt some fresh meat, yes?” asked the ativan elf. “I wouldn’t mind getting wet if it means finally eating something else than...what was it we’ve been feasting on?”  
“Hardtack.” grunted Oghren petulantly. “Water. Some dried prunes. And mushrooms, so many deep mushrooms. You surfacers made me taste rabbit, now I can’t even look at nugs as a satisfying meal again.”  
“We had nug yesterday.” reminded Morrigan, her tone hinting about how he hadn’t complained when they had eaten the critter.  
“Exactly. I want some rabbit and sod it if it means I’ll get wet!”  
Sten grunted something affirmative, eyes looking more interested than the rest of his face gave away.

“I just want to be done with having to hear _certain people_ whine about inadequate lodgings soon.” intoned Shale, sounding utterly exasperated. “And I will assume you’d prefer to reach this exit _before_ I take things in hand by myself.”  
Alistair put even more effort in trying to circumvent Morrigan without touching her while eyeing their golem companion with a healthy dose of fear.  
“Well then, dearest leader,” encouraged Zevran cheerfully. “Lead us the way to fresh air and future grilled rabbit prepared by our favourite dwarf.”  
The Warden chuckled and took a step forward, blue magic once more washing over the group, like a warm blanket, protecting them from all that could seek to harm them.

They weren’t out of the tunnel yet, but as long this blue magic would lead them, Leliana had no doubt they’d be alright in the end.


	2. Of Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Tamassran to Inquisitor...Some would spread that over a few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These characters will no doubt crop up more often in one shots. I doubt I'll actually get any real story written for them, but...

###  [ **Prompt 4** : Something that was lost but now regained, regret, a wish, a window, touch. ](https://www.reddit.com/r/dragonage/comments/ircmby/spoilers_alloctime_to_be_storytellers_the_dragon/)

Inquisitor. A new Name, for a new Regret.

The Tal-Vashoth looked through the window, long fingers threading softly through the red hair of the child in her lap. Little horn nubs peeked out and she rubbed on the sensitive skin around them, knowing it would help Aqun to settle down. He was restless, feeling her own stress and worry, the uncertainty that gripped her heart.

Once upon a time, she was Tamassran. Honored, loved and in love with her role in the Qun. Willful blindness made her avoid looking at what was wrong (and so much felt wrong as she grew older, saw more of the world. So much felt cruel - she could still remember one of her children crying, screaming and begging for mercy as their horns were hacked off and their mouth sewn shut while she watched on, stoically, reciting the wisdom of the Qun. She had forcefully forgotten about it, until her Regret). She had been happy, fulfilled in body and soul.

Her blood came from some humans, from Rivain, once upon a time. From deep poverty, powerless. Their ancestors had been taken, educated and for a long time, Tamassran had thanked the Qun for having brought them this fortune. For giving her and her brother and everyone in her batch, food, clothes, toys, everything they needed to be grateful and happy.

  
Inquisitor wasn’t sure if she could ever thank the Qun ever again. Not with Aqun in her lap, babbling words the child barely understood and the garbled sounds growing babies made. Not when knowing he was her nephew, possibly the last remaining link she had to her brother.  
She had been raised by the Tamassrans responsible for their batch, but she’d been allowed to sleep in the same bed with a boy, her brother, until her menses had come. He had been eventually sent away for the engineering corps, his clever fingers always building, raising edifices and machines for the better of the Qun. She had been taken in by the Tamassrans, her hands always guiding the small, the weaker, the uncertain. She’d been happy, proud, her brother cheering her on. They had always been together, having named one another with nicknames, jokingly cut their thumbs and mixed their blood, swearing they'd never betray one another in secret.

She had shed her childhood name in time and was raised to be a good Tamassran. She’d taken vows before the Qun, before the Tome of Koslun, to help the Whole, to enlighten the Soul of the people. She’d made vows to herself too, to guide those under her wing to fulfill their place in the Qun, to protect them, to love them.

And then her brother had ran off with a Saarebas.

It was perhaps their childhood closeness that brought her to betray all she had ever known.

Aqun was the result of her brother's Betrayal. Aqun was the result of her own betrayal for the sake of two instead of handing them over for the better of the whole. Aqun was the reason for her regrets, her loss of self, of her name. And when she looked down at those horns, she’d always have to wonder if Aqun was truly her brother’s son and not the production of something else. The Qun forbade children born of mixed race, so she’d never known if Qunari blood would triumph over a human’s. Her first instinct was to say yes, but now she didn’t know. Not when Aqun was the reason for her Regret.  
It’d been a week now, since that fateful day. Inquisitor couldn’t even remember why she’d come here, to Haven, in the first place. How she’d end up in that temple of a religion she fundamentally didn’t agree with. How she’d been associated with a woman long dead, whose glories were wrongfully used for the betterment of a few.

She was Saarebas now, magic coming to her and Aqun, both their right hands sputtering poisonous green, calling forth demons and other things from beyond the Veil. And as if that hadn't been enough, fire had come to her bidding, while Aqun amused himself with splashing water in everyone’s faces. It frightened her. Because nothing made sense anymore. Because she was no longer Tamassran, but Bas Saarebas and yet not. She was given another role, one she had not asked for, one she had not been raised for. A role that frightened her more than the sudden discovery that she was suddenly capable of magic.

She felt small hands slapping her on the chest, asking for attention. Inquisitor looked down, pale grey eyes staring at her with the fierce glare only a bored toddler could produce. Aqun babbled something, frowning harder in frustration and then pouted. She chuckled, getting up from her chair.  
“I suppose looking through the window is boring for one as small as you.” she spoke to him warmly in qunlat. “Let us meet with the one named Solas, I am sure he’ll have something to teach us.”  
She was no longer Tamassran. But she would follow her new name’s role. Because for all Aqun was her Regret, he was also her Hope, her wish for a new future where her brother wouldn’t have had to run.


	3. Worry and Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole watches Inquisitor being healed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if Cole comes over as too 'human'. No matter what I try, I just cannot seem to grasp the ethereal qualities of this thinking process. But I love him, so I felt like trying this with my tamassran Inquisitor.

###  [ **Prompt 2** : Recovery from a grievous wound- make it all about observations and gestures, no dialogue in this piece. ](https://www.reddit.com/r/dragonage/comments/ivsq07/spoilers_alloctime_to_be_storytellers_the_dragon/)

Cole desperately tried to soothe the child in his arms. Little horns, proudly curling already despite the young age. So stubborn like a ram, refusing to let himself be told his mother was going to be alright. He was wriggling, pushing (but not hitting, _mama wouldn’t want that_ ) and screaming so loud it was a miracle that Inquisitor’s magic hadn’t lashed out instinctively.

Vivienne and Solas were working on her. She looked so small on the bed, her skin ashen like the dead. Mother Giselle had advised Cole not to watch, nor to let Aqun do so either. Cole didn’t understand why, he had seen worse before. Aqun had too. Why not watch Solas and Vivienne fixing Inquisitor? Wasn’t it better to see hope being rekindled?

There was a lot of red. It did make him feel a sliver of fear from himself and a flood of it coming from his young charge. Iron Bull was pacing, not looking inside the tent. He was scared too. He didn’t like the idea that the last time he’d see Inquisitor it’d be in the form of a dying body.

But Solas and Vivienne were putting her back together. The lung emptied of blood, the ribs no longer crooked, broken, brittle. That was good. Inquisitor was breathing, hands twitching, face grimacing in pain despite the sleeping spell Solas had put her under. Vivienne was keeping her heart beating proper, _thump_ , _thump_ , _thump_ , the rhythm as it should while Solas fixed her.  
It was good, it was going to be fine, Cole knew it. Inquisitor thought so hard of Aqun that she’d never let herself die before making sure he was fine. He was happy that his little horned friend was so loved. He just wished Inquisitor loved herself a bit more.

Varric slowly took Aqun from Cole’s embrace, cradling the child against his bare chest. The sudden warmth surprised the boy, causing him to hiccup for a moment. He cried again, but no longer with high pitched screams like before, instead whining like a wounded animal.   
The dwarf’s thoughts were difficult to read for Cole, but the relief was palpable as well as the worry and fear - Varric also felt a bit less restless while holding the child. That was good.

Vivienne and Solas wouldn’t fail. They wouldn’t allow themselves to do so, pride and care driving them both. 

Without Aqun in his arms, Cole felt fidgety. Not doing anything didn’t suit him. He wanted to help. But he himself felt a bit helpless, the greatest source of grief not letting himself be reassured. Children were sometimes so stubborn it flummoxed Cole. The blond pulled at the threadbare sleeves of his shirt, feeling more threads unraveling under his fingers. Inquisitor had promised him new clothes. He didn’t need them but she is a caretaker and had a duty. Cole understood that.  
  
Right now she was ashen pale on the bed, Solas’s hands repairing the damage of the battle in Haven and Vivienne keeping her heart going, steadying her breath. Inquisitor’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, neither that of a truly asleep or awake person. It was so confusing that Cole stopped looking there and instead focused on the calm thoughts of Solas and Vivienne. Both were worried, but it was background noise, the rest of them concentrating upon healing, relieving Inquisitor of her pain and finally on making her organs work again. In their relatively cold logic, Cole found some relief. So did Sister Leliana as she watched the cool expressions on the mages’ faces. Cassandra and Cullen did their best to distract themselves, helping people. They had found her, broken. Ambassador Josephine was very good at ignoring her feelings (Cole would have to fix that or it’d only get more and more tangled and ignored) and was pressing Thom Rainier into gathering snow with some others and bring it to a boil for clean water once there was enough. Sera was angry and tired, shooting arrows messily at a drawing of Corypheus (Cory-penis was written on top of it) and hating herself for having abandoned Inquisitor. Cole would have to fix that too but later. Dorian was fast asleep, his dreams messy and jumbled with images of Felix and others dying.

But he couldn’t bring himself to leave Inquisitor’s tent yet even though he knew he could help other people. 

It was only when the sun went up that Vivienne and Solas stopped drinking lyrium potions that various mages and templars had supplied as time had passed by. Inquisitor’s belly was closed again and pain had faded away from her thoughts. Iron Bull was standing guard, mind calm and reassured long ago as he had seen the mages do good work. Varric had handed him Aqun, too tired to keep up his vigil and wandered off to sleep. Cole hadn’t moved from the entrance of the tent, sleeves more ragged than ever, eyes having registered everything the two mages had done to fix Inquisitor. He had registered the fear, the worry and the anxiety of every single person in the camp whilst standing there. It had been a lot he hadn’t been able to take care of right away.

It was a tidal wave of relief that swept over the camp when the mages left the tent, a faint smile on their lips. The hushed whispers soon grew louder, waking Aqun who at the sight of Vivienne’s horned hat made grabby hands to be lifted by her. The mage complied with a tired sigh and brought the child to his mother.

Inquisitor wouldn’t wake for a while longer, nor would she be fit for battle or long walks for the next few days. But Cole knew all would be well.


End file.
